Fixin'
by pandora1017
Summary: Christian finds out more about Jeff than he ever wanted to know...


Title: "Fixin'"  
Author: pandora1017  
Rating: G  
Content: In character-ness  
Notes: I don't own these guys. Bummer, huh? I'd be willing to share... But, anyway, this takes place after some fictional ladder match between E&C and the Hardys that never really took place, so suspend your disbelief, please. Jeff's "fixin'" is something I saw in the Hardys DVD from after the first TLC match and I thought it would help me set up this pairing I've been trying to do. Timeframe: During the E&C dynasty.

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Jeff bit his lip to prevent crying out when the trainer lifted his arm to check him out. He closed his eyes, letting the pain pass, and laid his face back down on the towel he was laying on.

"How's that feel, Jeff?"

"Super," he answered dryly, face still buried in the towel. The trainer, Sam, had grown used to Jeff's deadpan sarcasm for these 'fixings,' and smiled.

"Is this better or worse?" he asked, twisting the shoulder slightly.

Jeff sighed, painfully. "Better."

Sam nodded, and let the arm down, moving to check Jeff's other sore joints. Jeff opened his eyes again, more relaxed than before, and turned his head to the side, examining the wooden door across the room. The room was silent for a moment, and Jeff considered what was on the other side of the door. His brother - and Edge - were being stitched up after a ladder match. Matt had taken a ladder to the forehead and been busted open. Jeff flinched slightly, remembering Matt's bloody face. He didn't know exactly what happened to Edge, but he had been holding his shoulder and grimacing. Christian and Jeff were the only one capable of climbing that ladder at the end, but Christian had beaten him to it - once again.

Jeff sighed, then flinched slightly as a door slammed open across the room and watched boots hurry across the room. They stopped momentarily at the training room door, then flung it open. Sam got to his feet quickly. "Christian! Wait!"

Jeff lifted his head slightly to see what was happening. Christian was being shoved out of the room by two trainers and dragged back by Sam. "Let me in! I want to see my brother!"

"We're going to fix him up, Christian, you'll just slow us down in here."

"I have a right to be in there!" Christian argued as the door was slammed in his face. He turned, scowling, back to Sam. "They're not even helping Edge! I saw! They're working on Matt."

"Look, they'll be done with Matt soon and they'll fix Edge. He'll be fine. This isn't the worst thing that's ever happened to him."

Still scowling, Christian turned on his heel and dropped onto a folding chair that had been set up beside Jeff. In silence, Sam went back to Jeff and started testing the range of motion of the ankle that had gotten caught in a ladder rung. Jeff grimaced, then relaxed again and rested his head sideways, examining Christian's boots. Finally, he broke the silence. "How's Matt look?"

"What?" Christian glowered at him.

"Y'said y'saw them workin' on Matt. How's he look?"

"Bloody," Christian answered with a proud sneer. "And so totally wasting time that could be used to fix Edge's shoulder. If your reekazoid brother wouldn't have run headfirst into that ladder I was holding, they could be working on Edge right now."

"Riiiight," Jeff turned his head the other way as Christian smirked at him. "An' if _your_ brother wouldn't have tried t'spear me when Ah was hangin' off those belts, his shoulder wouldn't be dislocated in th'first place."

Christian fell silent, causing Jeff to wonder what had shut him up. There was a look of shock on his face. "His shoulder's dislocated?"

As if on cue, Edge cried out a short, painful scream.

"Not anymore."

Christian jumped up and went to the door again, but Sam had a feeling he was going to try that and stopped him. Christian struggled for a moment, then sighed, relinquishing, and fell back into the chair. He glared at the door for a while, then turned to Jeff again. "So what's wrong with you, boy?"

Jeff let the degredation slide, being used to it by now and more startled by the fact that Christian was showing interest in his wellbeing. "One too many swantons, Ah guess."

"Or maybe because you _so_ can't run with the big boys," Christian smirked, relaxing and naturally becoming condescending to his long time foe.

"Maybe," Jeff shrugged. "Kinda like Edge, right?"

Christian's smug look dropped once more, and he fumed. "Edge's going to be fine."

"Then why're y'in such a hurry t'get in there?"

"Because -... I... shut up!"

Jeff smiled to himself, then suddenly buried his face in the towel again, trying to hide a sharp intake of breath from Christian. Being distracted, though, Christian didn't instantly mock Jeff's injuries. He instead thought of Edge's.

"No, really, what's wrong with you?"

Jeff lifted his head and furrowed his brow. Was Christian really that concerned? He cast him a sideways glance. "Y'really want t'know?"

"Sure."

"What're they all, Sam?"

"Mm," Sam grunted slightly as he finally let go of Jeff's foot and got to his own feet. "Bruised tailbone, slightly sprained shoulder and ankle, general wear and tear. Nothing some ice won't fix. You should be 100% in about a week and a half."

"Yeah," Jeff muttered, laying his head backsideways on the towel. "Th'tailbone's from that leapfrog over th'ladder an' th'swanton, shoulder was th'... Irish whip int'th'steps, Ah think, an' th'ankle was jus' a mistep on a ladder."

"Heh," Christian chuckled. "That Irish whip was mine. I totally took you out."

"Gee, thanks."

"I'm going to get you some ice, Jeff. Just take it easy," Sam ordered.

"Like Ah have a choice," Jeff muttered as the door shut. He noticed Christian eyeing the door between them and their brothers. "They still won't let y'in there."

"I.. what?"

"Ah thought y'said Edge was fine."

"I... he is. I'm not going in there."

"How are you feelin', Chris?"

"What? Don't call me Chris."

"Whatever," Jeff shrugged weakly.

"And I'm all right."

"So you're th'only one t'make it outta th'match scot-free?"

"Well, I wouldn't say 'scot-free'... I did take my fair share of bumps."

"That's what Ah was askin'."

"Well," Christian slouched slightly in the chair and finally seemed to relax. "I'll definitely be feeling it tomorrow... hey, why do you care?"

"Ah'm jus' makin' conversation," Jeff responded flipply, his eyes half closed as he took a deep relaxing breath. "Ah've never really talked t'ya b'fore."

"Maybe 'cause you and your brother aren't the best conversationalists?"

"Maybe 'cause no one can get a word in edge-wise around you an' your brother."

Christian wrinkled his brow, looking offended. "Trying to say something?"

"Succeeding."

"Whatever," Christian dismissed Jeff's comments with a sneer. "Edge and I don't talk to you because we'd rather not be seen in public with rainbow-haired freaks when we're not kicking their asses."

"Well, Ah'm sorry, Mr. Tiger Beat, but as far as Ah'm concerned, Ah hear more girls screamin' f'my rainbow colored hair when Ah come out than when you an' Edge come out."

Christian stared at Jeff in stunned silence for a moment, then smirked. "Yeah, too bad you're not interested in girls."

Jeff raised a brow at Christian, with an unsettling smirk that made Christian shift nervously in his chair. "Aw, now, who told'ja my secret?"

Once again, the usually witty blond was struck speechless. "You're really...?"

Jeff smiled softly and shook his head no. Waiting until Christian had taken a deep breath and relaxed again, he winked and nodded his head yes. Christian gulped nervously, suddenly uncomfortable under Jeff's glance. Jeff, appreciating the situation, shifted back to his soft smile and shook his head no. Christian just watched him warily this time, uncertain of how to respond and thankful when the door to the training room opened. He looked up quickly and smiled genuinely as his brother stepped into the room with his arm in a sling and holding an ice pack on his shoulder. Edge stopped short when he saw Christian, and grinned. "Dude, totally awesome match tonight. I'd so high five you if I could lift my arm."

Christian jumped up, more than ready to get away from Jeff, and fell into his natural comfortable state in Edge's presence. "I totally understand. Let's get out of here and see about getting our belts polished."

Jeff watched the exchange with half interest, once again watching through half lidded eyes. Edge finally noticed Jeff laying on the floor and gestured to him, looking confused. "What were you doing in here with him?"

"Nothing!" Christian answered too quickly. "Uh, I was waiting for you."

"Dude, I totally understand. Those reekazoid trainers must have spent ten minutes stitching up his dork chop brother before they even _looked_ at me. It only took a minute to pop this baby back into the socket. So what if he bled to death in the meantime?" Edge flashed Christian the trademark grin and Christian nodded in agreement.

"Yeah, we'd totally be better off," Christian smirked, then caught the skeptical glance Jeff was watching him with and faltered. "Come on, let's get out of here."

"Sure thing, little buddy," Edge nodded, then looked to his arm. "Could you get the door for me?"

"Yeah," Christian turned and opened the door to the hall to let Edge pass. Before following, however, he cast one last glance at Jeff. Jeff raised a brow, then smirked and nodded his head yes. Christian's eyebrows jumped, and he hurried to follow Edge, letting the door fall behind him. Jeff laughed to himself as Sam came back through the door, catching it before it fell completely shut, with a bag of ice in hand.

"What's his hurry?"

"Ah don't know," Jeff smirked, laying his head back down. 


End file.
